Christmas Ever After (Puffin Island 3)

He relaxed slightly. “That’s good to know. Obviously you’d pick me.”

“No! I’d pick them. I love my friends.” And she was incensed by what he’d said. Incensed, deeply hurt and furious with herself for being so deluded. “And a friend would never do what you just did.”

She knew now there was no going back. No fixing.

“I know you love your friends, and that love makes you blind. It’s thanks to them you’ve lost sight of what’s important in life. We’re going to your parents’ for Christmas. They want the best for you. And so do I.”

She felt numb. Disconnected.

How could she have possibly thought this might be love? “I’m the one who will decide what’s best for me.”

“That’s the theory, but you always make the wrong choices.”

Anger flickered to life inside her. “Thank you for making it easy for me to say no to the question you didn’t ask.”

“Oh, for—” He bit off the word and inhaled deeply. “Skylar Tempest, will you marry me?”

“Again, no!” Her voice sounded strangely flat. “And I can’t believe you’re still asking after the conversation we’ve just had. You wanted me to choose. I’ve chosen. Now get out.”

He swore under his breath. “My flight leaves tomorrow and I have to be back in DC on Monday. I don’t have time to play games. I want to spend the next few hours celebrating, not fighting. All I want to hear is two words, that’s all. Yes, Richard.”

“I’m not playing games. We don’t want the same things. Apparently we never did, but I’m only now realizing that. And even if we did have a single thing in common, I can’t be with someone who is so rude about the friends I love. They’re too important to me. It’s over, Richard.”

Her words fell into a simmering silence.

She saw the change in him and her heart kicked hard against her chest. She’d been with him long enough to be familiar with every shift in his mood. It was like watching the sky darken over Puffin Island, heralding an approaching storm.

His temper was the thing she’d liked least about him.

“I propose to you in public and your response is to break up with me? That’s not happening.” His tone was thickened. “You will not humiliate me. Next time we step out there it will be together and you’ll be smiling. This time you are going to make the right decision.”

“If you really knew me, you’d know that being proposed to in public would be the last thing I’d ever want. I don’t believe in fairy tales, Richard, but I do believe two people should be together because they love each other, not because it suits their career ambitions or because it’s part of a five-year plan.” She saw him take a step forward but she stood her ground, refusing to be intimidated. “You need to go now. If you’re worried about being seen then you can use the rear exit.”

“I’m virtually a member of your family.” His voice was an ugly growl. “Your father loves me.”

“Then marry my father and I hope you’ll be very happy.” She was calm, trying to diffuse a situation that was threatening to explode, but it was too late and she saw the moment his anger snapped the leash and bolted.

In the past she’d handled every incendiary moment with care, never allowing it to reach this point. She’d soothed, placated and occasionally walked out, putting distance between them.

But it was too late for any of those options now.

The pin was out of the grenade.

His shoulders hunched. His features were contorted and ugly and in that single split second she wondered how she ever could have thought him handsome. On the outside he was perfectly wrapped, but on the inside …

“Richard, you need to get control of yourself.” Her voice was sharp. “Take some breaths.”

“You are a spoiled bitch.”

She flinched as if he’d hit her and then realized in a moment of suspended disbelief that he actually was going to hit her.

His hand came up and instinctively she sidestepped to evade the blow. Her heel caught on the edge of a box and she fell heavily, smacking her head on the corner of the table.

Pain exploded in her skull. Her vision went dark and there was a distant humming in her head. Something warm and wet trickled down her face and she opened her eyes dizzily, trying to see through the pain.

He stood over her, hands raised to ward off the accusation he was clearly afraid she might make. “I didn’t touch you.” There was a hint of panic in his voice. “I didn’t touch you.”

He made no move to help her.